!WARNING!WARNING!WARNING!WARNING!WARNING!WARNING!

Slash, femslash, bad language, OOC, Ginny bashing, Dumbledore bashing, Dumbledore un-bashing, NO Voldemort (he was only going to get in the way of the sexiness), warm-buttery-toast style contented fluffiness, homophobic nearly everyone, general stupidity, parody, out-of-order warnings…and probably some other stuff I can't remember. Anyway, don't like, don't read.

!WARNING!WARNING!WARNING!WARNING!WARNING!WARNING!

Summary: Something goes terribly wrong for Harry, but he finds someone to help with the pain. Lots of random hilarity ensues, and a lot of sex. And a purple turtle.

Pairings OMG where to begin…right, Peeves/Myrtle, Pansy/Hermione, Draco/Seamus, Harry/Ron, Sirius/Remus, Remus/Sirius, Lucius/Severus, Sirius/Severus/Remus, Pansy/Tonks, Harry/Ron/Seamus/Draco, Hermione/Luna, Minerva/Rita, Luna/Hermione/Narcissa/Fleur/Bellatrix/Parvati/Padma/Lavender/Hannah/Cho (I really don't like lesbians that much, but I've been told to write it so I will), Harry/Seamus and that's about it. But I'll probably change my mind and add a few more later.

Author's Preamble:Well, here goes nothing...my first fic! Woo go me! Anyway, this story came from...somewhere...one day and wouldn't go away until I wrote it. So I did. My beta and best friend Kezzy (LOVE YOU HUN!) thought it was quite good, so I decided to post it. I hope you enjoy the perverted slashy fruits of my brain!

Slash Actually

Prologue

Harry didn't know what he was doing. He couldn't think. He just knew he needed to get away. He ran to his room, and grabbed his broom. He ran at one of the windows, which sensed his rage, instantly made itself big enough for him to fly out of. Without the slightest waver in his pace, he mounted his broom and took flight.

The cold winter air chilled his fury-heated skin. His robes whirled about him menacingly. As he flew, he felt himself becoming calmer, more rational.

Slowly, he began to replay the day's events in his mind…

FLASHBACK

Dark Lord Finally Defeated

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-But-Probably-Can-Be-Now-He's-Dead-So-What-The-Heck-Voldemort was found dead in his hiding place in Eastbourne early this morning. A spokesperson for the family of the deceased had this statement for the press:

"Lord Voldemort was found dead this morning in his home. Whilst the cause of death has yet to be confirmed, it is believed to be related to the cement mixer in which he was found. Demolition experts are currently working to extract his corpse from the cement."

The Former Dark Lord was attempting to build a wall for his wife of three months, Beryl Dark Lord. Beryl was too distraught to comment this morning, but by lunchtime she was over it and had this to say:

"Yeah, like, on reflection, I think it's like probably for the best. Yeah, I did love him, but, ya know, what with him being the most evil thing ever, like, I think he deserves to be like dead like."

Beryl, 97, is set to inherit the entire Voldemort estate…"

Harry sat back in shock. It was supposed to be his job! He was supposed to be the one to kill Voldemort!

Decidedly pissed off, he stormed down to the common room to find Ron and Hermione.

"Gosh, Harry, you look decidedly pissed off!" the ever-perceptive Hermione commented.

Ron grunted and stared dumbly into the fire. Ever since his…err…accident last year, he had had the IQ of an amoeba. He was effectively dead to the world, kept alive only by Hermione's love and constant healing spells.

"I AM!" Harry shouted. He explained the situation.

"Hmm…I see…" Hermione murmured, gazing pensively at Ron.

"Hermione…" Harry said, backing away slightly. "You've got your evil-genius-planning-something-evilly-evil face on…"

"We could…could…could…make it look like the 'accident' was really all your doing, Harry. Then you'd get all the glory and cheesecake that would go with killing Voldemort, without any of the hard work…"

Harry took a moment to take this in, ignoring Ron, who'd started jumping around the room at the mention of cheesecake. It did seem like a good idea…

Just then, a head popped into the fireplace. It was our good friend, Old Dumbly himself, Professor Albus Dumbledore, Order of yada yada yada, etc.

"Harry, could I see you for a minute in my office please? There's something important I need to discuss with you…

Flashback interference caused by the start of a storm in the real world

"WHAT!" Harry was speechless.

Dumbledore looked at him seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses.

"You mean you've been lying to me all this time! I can't believe you'd do this to me! I trusted you!"

Without another word, he ran from the Head Teacher's office.

END FLASHBACK

Yes, it had been an eventful day. And now it was raining. Brilliant. He thought. Bloody brilliant. Harry was still fuming over what Dumbledore had told him. He had trusted him like a father, and he had been lying to him this whole time…

It had begun to rain very heavily now. Harry flew higher and faster, trying desperately not to think. He needed not to think.

Whilst he was concentrating really hard on not thinking, he didn't notice that his broom was becoming slipperier and slipperier. He slowly began to loose his grip…

He was falling. Damn, he thought. Just when my day couldn't get any worse, now I go and fall of my broom from a great height. I'M FALLING FROM A GREAT HEIGHT!

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK" Harry screamed. This was definitely not good.

"Retardo Fallingus" he heard a deep voice called from the ground. Suddenly, he felt like he was falling in slow motion. He still had a few hundred feet to fall; he was falling slowly; WOO he was flying!

He began pratting around, pretending he was swimming, crossing he legs and reclining into an imaginary easy chair. He began to really enjoy himself, forgetting that days troubles. All too soon he was on the rain-soaked ground.

A tall, heavy-set figure loomed over him, silhouetted by a crack of lightening. Ohhhh fuck.